


Accidents Happen

by ChasingRabbits



Series: A Couple of Kooks [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Pining Castiel, Pining Dean, Topping from the Bottom, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, gay panic (kinda?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingRabbits/pseuds/ChasingRabbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Emma starting daycare and Castiel going back to work,  it's clear to Dean that his little family is finding its footing. </p><p>Maybe a little too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> Please Note: The Cas section of this oneshot is pretty heavy with the Castiel/Crowley. If that ain't your thing, feel free to skip.

Two days ago, Dean woke to Cas arguing with Naomi over the phone. Apparently, she put the kibosh on his _extended paternity leave_ and he had one week to make other arrangements for Emma’s care. Naomi was already pretty high up on Dean’s shit list, but this was the last straw.

Now he’s here, sitting in a brightly colored, child-friendly waiting room while they wait for the daycare director to meet with them. Emma doesn’t mind it, because there are toys and beanbag chairs and more board books than Dean has ever seen in his life.

Emma’s hair is long and fine, curled slightly at the ends. She walks and chats up everyone and anyone, and understands Cas and Dean more and more each day. It’s incredible, when Dean thinks about it. He never really gave much thought to babies, how they develop and how they grow into functioning people.

It’s almost like the premise of a 50’s horror flick—a strange race of aliens disguised as underdeveloped humans lands on Earth and slowly learns their secrets, their ways of life.

“ _Baby Invasion_ ,” Dean doesn’t mean to voice the title of this brilliant idea, because he knows that Cas will give him that exact look that he’s giving him right now.

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s a good idea.”

There’s a loud thud from over by the play area. Emma is ripping books off of the shelf and tossing them aside. Dean and Cas jump up immediately; Dean grabs Emma while Cas stoops to put all the books back.

Emma thinks this is the funniest fucking thing that has ever happened.

She squeals something that sounds a lot like, “Again, daddy!”

Dean’s gotten good at deciphering her babbling.

He has not gotten good at holding a child who has very new and very exciting control over the movement of her limbs.

“Baby, don’t mess up your pants, those are new,” he grunts and wrestles her down into a chair.  “We’re behaving, okay? You and me both, sister.”

Emma thinks it’s a game, as she so often does when Dean tries to be serious. Cas has a much better serious face, probably because he doesn’t look menacing or stern—it’s just serious.

“Dean, you’re fine,” Cas reassures him.

“The fuck I am,” Dean whispers back. “I don’t wanna be here, I don’t wanna fuckin’ audition for these assclowns.”

“We’re not auditioning,” Cas furrows his brow, “We’re meeting with the director to see if we’ll be a good match for this facility.”

Well, whatever they’re doing, it’s putting Dean the fuck on edge.

The door to the front office opens and a woman with a bun wound up tight on her head appears. “Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak, we’re ready for you.”

Dean hoists Emma up into his arms again and takes a breath. This is the only affordable place nearby that had a program suitable for Emma and convenient enough for Dean and Cas. If this doesn’t work, they’re going to have to take to hiring a nanny service, and that is fucking expensive.

Plus, Emma seems to be as bored on her own as Cas is.

They’re led to a cozy office with butter yellow walls and big cushy armchairs in front of a rich chestnut desk.  The name plate on the door reads “Donna Hanscum, Center Director”.

She’s a round-faced woman with blonde hair and a sunny smile that Dean can’t help but return.

“Hello there, I’m Ms. Hanscum,” she greets. “Which of you is Dean?”

“That’s me,” Dean says, and shakes Donna’s hand.

“And you’re Castiel,” Donna then takes Cas’ hand. “Did I say that right?”

“Yes,” Cas nods. “And Cas is perfectly fine.”

“Okey-dokey, then,” Donna smiles and turns to Emma. “And this must be Emma. Hello, Emma.”

“Hi,” Emma says back, but stays very guarded and pressed close to Dean.

“Wow, she’s very social,” says Donna. “Please, have a seat. I’ve only had one or two kids say hello back to me when I first met them.”

Dean’s chest swells and he sits up a little straighter.

Donna is very kind. She’s unlike any other educator Dean has ever met, and stops between asking Cas and Dean some essential questions to interact with Emma. She gets that they’re both Emma’s parents, though looks wary when Dean explains that they’re platonic friends. She gathers information about them, asking what they want out of Emma’s education, what kind of support they’re looking for. Cas talks about his job for a few minutes then before Donna turns to Dean.

“And what about you?” she asks, “What do you do?”

“Uh,” Dean shifts. “I work security at a mall by our place, and work a couple days a week as a mechanic at the body shop up the street.”

“That’s a refreshing answer, I’ll tell you,” she smiles. “My dad was a mechanic. Went on and on about cars every time you gave him the chance.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiles and nods.

“Well,” Donna stands, “I think that’s it for the interview portion. How would you like to take a tour?”

“Hey, will you take her?” Dean asks, and Cas does without a word. Dean’s arm cramps as he straightens it out, trying to get his circulation normal again. He follows Cas and Donna, who walk out of the office and down the hallway of the facility.

“Now, many of the toddlers we accept into our program stay with us until they reach school age,” Donna explains. “We strive for an intimate experience, a lot of one-on-one time and creative play. We want to encourage children to explore the world around them while building a solid foundation for kindergarten.”

“How do your kids fare once they’re introduced into the school system?” asks Castiel.

Fuck, he’s so much better at this type of parenting shit. Dean never even would have thought about asking that.

“Unfortunately, while we can’t control what goes on once they’re out of our facility, we do have after school care here too,” Donna explains. “Our school age care program is more about offering support for students, and often when they’re having problems at school, they’ll consult one of our teachers and they’ll be able to work out a solution. It’s never too early to start learning how to resolve conflict, that’s what I say.”

She leads them all the way to the end of the hall, where a door decorated with tiny paper handprints opens into a moderately sized room. There are tiny chairs and tables everywhere, and a group of toddlers sitting in a circle around a teacher, who reads to them out of an oversized book.

“This is our toddler classroom,” Donna says. “We have two head teachers in each room for each age group, plus floating teachers who come in throughout the day. Garth and Gilda are our toddler teachers.”

Gilda must be the one reading to the kids, because the walking swizzle stick that comes up to them introduces himself as Garth.

“And who’s this little ray of sunshine,” Garth asks Emma.

“Mema!” she replies.

“Emma,” says Dean. “Uh, she kinda babbles a lot.”

“How old is she?”

“Sixteen months,” Cas supplies.

“Aw, sweet sixteen,” Garth gives an easy, doofy smile. “Your dads get you that Fisher-Price Humvee you asked for, or did you have to settle for a crummy Lexus?”

“Garth, for goodness sake,” Donna rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry about the babbling,” Garth waves it off, as though Donna hadn’t said anything at all. “Phonics is complicated, especially at this age. Patience is key; she’ll get there.”

Dean thinks he might kind of like Garth.

“Emma, would you like Garth to show you around?” asks Donna. Emma nods, so Cas sets her down on the floor. She’s obviously been waiting for this moment since the lobby and takes off almost quicker than Garth can chase after her.

“Cas, can I talk to you?” Dean tosses his head toward the door.

As soon as they’re down the hall a few yards, Dean asks, “What do you think?”

“Well,” Cas purses his lips, formulating his answer. “As far as a last resort goes, I think it’s a solid decision. It’s impossible to make a proper judgment after so short a time, but I don’t have any trepidation. What about you?”

“I like the people,” says Dean. “They seem good.”

Cas looks him in the eye for a moment before he nods, “Okay. So, accept if they admit us.”

Dean takes a breath and nods back.

“Good,” Cas puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders and guides him in a few deep breaths. “She’s going to be okay, Dean.”

He’d smack anyone else for saying it, but when it comes from Cas it’s actually reassuring.

How does he do that?

“Okay,” Dean nods back. “Go team.”

They do a windmill high five, even though it’s totally lame, and reenter the classroom.

“So, when do you think we’ll know by?” Cas asks Donna.

“Oh, I should say by the end of the day tomorrow,” she says. “You can always just give me a ring too if you have any questions.”

Dean looks over at the gathering of toddlers on the boldly colored rug and sees Emma joining in their song and dance, now lead by Garth. She smiles as she stomps her feet and waves her arms, and shrieks with laughter when she falls flat on her butt.

It’s hard to pull her away.

“I know, baby,” Dean soothes a hand over her back as she wails into his neck. “You’re gonna be fine. We’ll come back and play with your friends soon, okay?”

This does not placate her the way he wants it to.

At least she’s calmed down by the time they get to the body shop. Dean hops out of the Impala and Cas shifts into the driver’s seat. He could have taken the whole day off, but he opted for just the morning. He’s got a carburetor to rebuild and he’s not leaving tonight until it’s done.

Cas rolls down the window and Dean leans down.

“Be good for popsicle, okay?” Dean shields his eyes against the sun.  

Emma doesn’t respond.

“Yikes,” Dean sucks in a breath through his teeth. “The cold shoulder.”

“Maybe she thinks your nicknames are uninspired,” Cas offers, his bright blue eyes alight with amusement.  

“Shut up,” Dean sticks out his tongue. “I’ll call you on my break. I should know when I’ll be done by then.”

“All right,” Cas smiles at him. “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks,” Dean grins and, before he realizes what he’s doing, gives Cas a quick kiss on the lips.

… wait, _what_?

Cas’ eyes are giant when Dean shoots up stalk straight. Without a word, Dean turns on his heel and practically sprints into the office. He startles Luis, another mechanic, mumbles a quick apology, and waits for his breathing to even out. Fuck, what just happened?

_What just happened?_

He peeks out the window—subtly, he hopes—and wilts with relief when he sees that the Impala is gone. Dean then slides down the wall and plants himself on the floor.

It was an accident. His face was so close, and they were right there, and people do things like kiss when they say goodbye.

People who are romantically involved, usually, which Dean and Cas are not.

Dean combs his fingers through his hair and thuds his head back against the wall.

His heart won’t slow, his face won’t un-flush.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

“You kissed him?”

“Well, he kissed me.”

Silence falls on the other end of the line. Castiel can’t believe he was this desperate, but there’s no one else he could turn to for an objective point of view about this.  

“I’m gonna kill that kid,” Meg sighs.

Okay, maybe not so objective.

“Meg—“

“No,” Meg cuts him off. “Fuck him. And not literally either, Castiel.”

“He’s my best friend,” Cas defends. “We live together, I’m raising a child with him—“

“This conversation is making me nauseous,” Meg groans.

“You don’t think it’s natural to fall into something like this?” Castiel asks. Meg blows out a breath into the receiver.

 “I think you’ve got the blinders on,” she says. “Personally, I think the whole situation is fucked up. I think you got too involved too early because you love Dean so much, and now you’re suffering the consequences.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Castiel asks. “He needed help. He’s my family.”

“Ugh, your brand of loyalty is one of the most exhausting things I’ve ever had to endure,” Meg heaves another sigh. “Castiel, I don’t want you to get hurt, I really don’t, but if you insist on being a total dumbass about this then that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Cas rubs his eyes under his glasses. He admits softly, “I know.”

“If you know then why are you doing it?” Meg demands.

Castiel’s urge to shout back, to defend Dean until he’s blue in the face, dies as soon as Dean walks in the front door. He’s covered in engine grease, and simply gives Castiel a nod in greeting.

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

“No, I can have that done by Monday,” Castiel clears his throat.

“The fake phone call, are you serious?” Meg snarks, but Castiel doesn’t say another word until Dean shuts the bathroom door. The shower starts running and Castiel lets out the breath that got trapped in his chest.

“I may be in more trouble than I initially anticipated,” he sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Get some dick and try to forget about it,” Meg suggests. “That’s what I’d do.”

“Are you offering?” Castiel raises an eyebrow.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious,” Meg lilts back. “As much as I’d love to dust off the ol’ strap-on, I’ve got work to do.”

“Okay,” Castiel sits back.

“Try not to let it get you too down, kid,” says Meg. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs and hangs up.

Get some dick. To be honest, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Castiel then makes an executive decision to do exactly that, pushes himself up off of the couch and writes a quick note to Dean.

_Running a quick errand. Will have car back before you need to go to work. – C_

He grabs the car keys and shuts the door behind him, refusing to think any more on this plan, lest he think better and turn right back around.

The drive to Crowley’s is hellacious in rush hour traffic. Everywhere in Los Angeles takes twenty minutes, unless you dare venture out during rush hour. Twenty minutes turns to forty all too quickly.

He barely gets to Crowley’s with enough time to muss up his hair and look casual. He didn’t tell him that he was coming over, just came. Crowley, private though he is, has never minded when Castiel pops up unexpectedly. He’ll just smile that smile and give Castiel whatever he wants.

It’s that same smile that drew Castiel in to begin with.

The first time he saw Crowley, he was barely sixteen. He’d snuck out with Dean and Gabriel to go see a midnight screening of _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , and while Gabriel bought their tickets, Dean and Castiel held places in line.

_“A little late for the Apple Dumpling Gang to be wandering about, isn’t it?”_

The man in line beside them had this gorgeous face, with pronounced cheekbones and dark, shadowed eyes. He smiled like he knew something that no one else did, as though he was the sole keeper of the secrets that had brought down empires, that could bring down the world if he revealed them in just the right way.

 _“Fuck you, you creepy-ass dick,”_ Dean had come back. His voice had only just dropped into its lower register, and still cracked on occasion. Crowley had just smiled back at them, at Castiel specifically, and asked, “ _First time?_ ”

Castiel just nodded.

“ _Abby_ ,” he’d turned to the redhead beside him, “ _I need your lipstick, love_.”

Tube of lipstick in hand, Crowley had stepped closer to Castiel, _“Are you eighteen?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Castiel lied. He’d have lied a thousand more times to get Crowley to look at him like that again.

 _“Are you positive?”_ he raised his eyebrows, and that was it. Castiel nodded, enamored, and let Crowley draw two big red V’s on his cheeks.

“ _Don’t let them be too rough, duckie,”_ Crowley had tilted Castiel’s face up. “ _They do love their ritual sacrifice here._ ”

He then leaned forward and kissed Castiel right on the mouth. It was his first kiss from another guy, right there on the sidewalk outside of a dumpy theater building. When he pulled back, he was burning hot.   

 _“Shame. Keep blushing like that and they won’t even be able to make out the lipstick on your cheeks_.”

Castiel startles out of the memory when he hears the door unlock. Crowley looks surprised to see him for all of two seconds before he breaks out into _that fucking smile_ and sets his briefcase by the door.

He loosens his tie and holds out his arms, “Daddy’s home.”

Green light.

Castiel is on him lightning quick—thank god Crowley is sturdy. He lets himself succumb to the moment, lets himself indulge in every last god forsaken desire that he has. It’s easy to lose himself in Crowley’s lips, in the drag of his stubble across his cheek, just like it always has been.

“Randy bugger, aren’t you?” Crowley huffs and sheds his suit jacket. Castiel snags his lower lip in his teeth, soothes the skin with his tongue. He feels that preliminary rush of arousal deep in his gut as Crowley ushers him to the bedroom, and watches as Crowley roots around in his nightstand for lube and condoms.

Castiel undoes his tie the first chance he gets, then runs his fingers through that thick black hair until it musses.

He disassembles the professional before him until he looks like that punk-ass nineteen-year-old that Castiel first met, fresh off the boat from London with blonde stains in his hair and colorful tattoos climbing his biceps and chest like ivy.

Once they’re down to nothing, Castiel seizes the opportunity to push Crowley to the floor. He opens himself up, smiling as Crowley watches, engrossed. Condom on and lubed up, Castiel sinks down on top of him.

Crowley doesn’t normally go for this, but it seems today that he’s willing to make an exception.

When they’re all spent, Crowley disposes of the condom and cleans them both up. He settles beside Castiel, their backs to the bed, and remarks, “Hello, Castiel, what the hell are you doing in my flat?”  

Castiel lets out a laugh before he can help it, which happens to spawn a most unusual occurrence.

Crowley laughs too.

* * *

“Errands” has never meant errands with Cas.

See, “errands” is too vague, and Cas is never vague; it’s not in his nature. He’ll tell you straight out where he’s going, what he’s doing, even ask if you need anything while he’s out.

“Errands” has meant, and will always mean “fucking Crowley”.

Dean crumples the post-it in his fist and tosses it in the garbage can.

Okay, so Dean’s come to the conclusion that no, he didn’t kiss Cas on purpose. It was an accident, because they were there and in the moment and it was all so fuckin’ Norman Rockwell for a second that Dean just kinda… forgot that Cas was a dude.

Not that he thought Cas was a chick, either. It was a gender irrelevant thing, like in this situation you kiss the person you’re that close to no matter who they are. Yeah, that sounds right.

Fuck, is ‘gender irrelevant’ even a thing?

He turns to Google.

‘Gender irrelevant’ doesn’t yield a particularly helpful search when he types it in. He rubs his hands over his face and decides he needs a beer before he goes any further. He returns to the couch with a Fat Tire and takes a breath.

His stomach turns and with shaking fingers he adds ‘sexuality’ to the end of his search.

A lot of the same results surface, except for three quarters of the way down the page the Wikipedia article for ‘pansexuality’ comes up. That’s what Cas is, right? It definitely rings a bell. All Dean knows is that Cas likes everyone, and more to the point likes fucking everyone.

Dean’s repertoire of sexual partners may be broader than Cas’, but between Crowley and Meg alone, he skyrockets above Dean in quantity of fucking done.

His eyes skim over the Wikipedia entry. It’s a lot of stuff that makes Dean yawn, because yeah, he knows about this kinda stuff because of Cas, and he’d take down any worthless fuck who so much as looked at Cas the wrong way, but he’s never had to worry about sexuality in relation to himself before. Not really. He’s a guy with a nice face and an unabiding love for tits, what the fuck would he have to worry about?

Then it leaps out.  

_All gender identities and biological sexes._

As he reads on, he’s gotta say it makes more and more sense. Not only in terms of what he was trying to describe, but just in general. It never really made sense to him that anyone would discriminate against sex or gender, it was definitely something he learned. Hell, he can remember being a kid and not getting why dad got mad when Dean called a boy ‘cute’.

In _kindergarten_ he learned that shit wasn’t cool.

Still, Dean caught himself staring at guys a few too many times when he was younger. Half the fights he got into in gym class were to prove he wasn’t staring at anyone’s ass. Then, of course, he had to stop fighting because his and Sam’s caseworker told him that fighting could get them taken away from Bobby and Ellen.  

Truth be told, remembering that shit makes him nauseous, so he tries to avoid it if he can.

It just proves that if you don’t want to see something, chances are you won’t see it. Even with a friend like Cas, who had this big dopey grin on his face the night he’d lost his virginity to that chick April, and just as big a grin on his face when he’d come limping home from Crowley’s.

Maybe it was easier for Dean to ignore liking guys because he liked girls.

That makes him kind of sad.

The fey kid who sat behind him in freshman algebra would’ve fucked him.

That would’ve been cool to know he could have done that.

He shuts his computer when Emma starts crying, up from her nap already. Dean goes to gather her, to change her and set her up with her crayons and a coloring book. She’s not great at coloring yet, but it’s not for a lack of trying.

He fixes them both some dinner, then parks them both in front of the TV. Currently, Emma’s favorite movie is Princess and the Frog, even though there are freaky-ass parts in it.

Apparently, Emma’s just so badass that it doesn’t faze her.

When the movie is over, he gets Emma into her jammies, lets her pick out a couple books, and lies back on his bed with her snuggled up against him.

He can remember being little, when Sammy was about Emma’s age. He can remember both of them snuggling up to mom in the exact same way, one on either side of her as she read.

Fuck.

Dean sniffs back the burning sensation behind his eyes and reads through each and every book, until Emma is fast asleep against him.

He only barely gets her into her crib when the sound of the front door opening and shutting hits his ears. Dean quietly pads out into the front room, where he sees Cas sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of Gatorade.

“How’s Crowley?” Dean doesn’t mean to ask.

Castiel looks over at him with this undecipherable knit in his brows and replies, “Fine.”

Dean nods back and lets out a sigh through his nostrils. Crowley is the highest level of dick there is. If it was possible to have a black belt in being a dick, he would be grand master. It makes Dean’s stomach turn, the thought of Cas with Crowley. Fuck’s sake, he picked up on Cas when he was a goddamn _kid_. Dean’s moral compass is skewed at best, and even _he_ knows that’s just wrong.

It’s just so fucking gross. Sure, Crowley had that British punk rock/Satanist look about him that was, upon reflection, kind of sexy, but that didn’t mean Cas had to just up and fuck him. There were plenty of guys out there better for Cas.

He even has this funky feeling in his gut that… that maybe he could be better for Cas.  

“Is there something else you’d like to discuss, Dean?” Cas interrupts, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

His eyes are piercing. Dean’s never bothered keeping anything from Cas, just because it felt like Cas could see right into his soul if he wanted. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who could take down a full grown man with just a stare, but underneath that ragamuffin hair and those big glasses and all those lean limbs is a stare that has brought Dean down time and time again.

Dean swallows hard, and finally answers, “Not really, no.”

Dean isn’t going to talk about it. What is he supposed to say? I kissed you because you were right there? Because you’re raising a kid with me and you’re so much better at it than I am and your face just looked like it needed to be kissed?

I kissed you because it felt right?

Actually, that’s probably a good way to put it.

“It’s ‘cause you were there, dude,” is what comes out, and Cas cocks his head. “Fuck, that’s not what I mean. It’s not just ‘cause you were _there,_ it was just a moment, y’know? I kinda just got caught up.”

Cas stares at him for a good long while before he takes in a breath and lets it out.

“Are you apologizing?” he asks then.

He’s not. He fucking knows that he’s not. He just doesn’t know what the hell they’re supposed to do. Cas doesn’t feel anything special with him, obviously. Why would he? People like Crowley and Meg… they’re doing things with their lives. They’ve got good jobs and college degrees. Dean is just some punk orphan that Cas helped out one day and never managed to shake off.

Dean swallows hard and shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Cas nods, as though that perfectly answers the question when Dean knows that it doesn’t. He clears his throat and looks down at his feet.

“Anyway, I’m gonna get dressed,” he says. “Promised Benny I’d meet him a little early and take a look at his car for him.”

“You don’t have to lie, Dean,” Cas comes back, the edge of his voice razor sharp. Dean’s mouth falls into a firm line.

“Fine,” he folds his arms over his chest. “I’ve got some errands to run.”

**oo**

“Well, would you look at who it is!”

Garth must be one of those infernal ‘morning people’.  He squats down to Emma’s level while Dean signs her in on the class roster, “How you doin’ chickadee? You ready to have some fun with your friends today?”

Emma sucks on the three middle fingers of her free hand, the one that isn’t wrapped up in Castiel’s, and nods.

“What time is it?” asks Dean.

“Quarter after seven,” Cas yawns back.

“I’m real glad you guys came back,” says Garth then, rolling back up to full height. “Emma’s gonna love it here, I can already tell.”

“At this point, she’ll love anything that isn’t hanging out with me,” Cas replies, and Dean bites his tongue.

“All right, Miss Emma,” Garth holds out a hand for her to take. “I’m going to take you to Gilda, and she’s going to help you get washed up for breakfast.”

“Thank god,” Cas breathes a sigh of relief as Garth leads Emma across the room to Gilda. “They don’t baby talk.”

“They’re teachers, Cas, I don’t think they’re allowed to,” Dean bites back.

“Your level of maturity never ceases to amaze,” Cas sighs.

“Hey,” Garth returns to them. “You guys mind if we have a little jaw session out in the hall?”

Cas and Dean nod and follow Garth a few paces down the hallway. He folds his lanky arms over his chest, his shirt and jeans hanging off his wiry frame like he lost a hundred pounds overnight.

“How are you two feeling?” he asks. “It’s a big day, a lot of parents get really nervous about it.”

Dean looks at Cas, who shoves his hands in his sweater pockets and shrugs. Dean draws in a breath and lets it out very, very slowly.

“Whoa,” Garth holds up his hands then. “Is everything okay with you two?”

“Fine,” Dean nods, and Cas rolls his eyes.

“Look,” Garth puts his hands on his hips, “I know it’s none of my business, but you gotta remember that Emma’s at a really critical age. She can pick up on your vibes, and if these are the kinds of vibes you’re putting out… that’s not only upsetting for her, but it’s no way for you two to live your lives.”

Dean looks over at Cas again, whose shoulders have un-tensed, and grinds his teeth. Shit, he told Cas he’d stop doing that.

What the fuck is he doing making those kinds of promises to Cas, anyway?

“It’s perfectly all right to have little tiffs and what have yous,” says Garth. “No couple gets along one hundred percent of the time. It’s normal.”

“We’re not a couple,” Dean and Cas reply together.

This seems to throw Garth for a loop.

“You mean,” he furrows his brow, trying to puzzle it out. “You’re both her dads.”

“We’re co-parents,” Dean explains. “I live with him.”

“We live together,” Castiel corrects, and boy howdy would he spit fire if he could. Dean suppresses the very real urge to growl and crosses his arms tight over his chest.

“Wow, let’s put the pistols down, fellas,” Garth placates. “Now, you two’ve got something going on, that’s fine. I’m not here to resolve that conflict. What I can say though is that it’ll be a lot easier to resolve that conflict if you put the egos aside. Talk to each other.”

Dean can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest.

“Communication is key to everything,” Garth says. “Now, I may not know y’all from Adam yet, but it’s not hard to see you’re both hurting. You have every right to your feelings—did you just make a face at me?”

Cas and Garth both look at Dean.

“Wh—no!”

“You did,” says Garth. “When I said ‘feelings’—you did it again.”

“I didn’t,” Dean insists, trying not to burn under that smug fucking look on Cas’ face. He squirms under the gaze and mutters, “Shut up.”

“Look, just promise me y’all will stow your crap by the time you come to pick her up,” Garth pointedly looks at the two of them.

After Cas and Dean both nod their assent, they’re led back into the room. Emma is already eating oatmeal out of a teeny tiny bowl at a teeny tiny table. She’s making faces at Gilda as she eats.

Dean stoops and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Daddy and popsicle are gonna go, okay baby?”

“Yah,” Emma nods, like this isn’t a big deal.

“Can we have hugs?”

“Yah,” Emma nods again, and twists to hug Dean, and then Cas.

“Have a good day, sweetheart,” Cas says.

And like that, they’ve dropped their kid off for her first day of school.

Well, daycare at her age. But still.

“Holy shit,” Dean lets out a laugh as they walk out of the building and back to the Impala.

“Could she have gotten rid of us any faster?” Cas smiles. “A year old and already we’re cramping her style.”

Dean chuckles, and Castiel does the same. Just like that, the nerves in his stomach ease and he’s able to get out of the parking lot and on the road without worrying about looking at Cas the wrong way.

They stop at a light and Cas says, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

“Me too,” Dean nods. “Garth is right, we gotta stow our crap.”

“I agree,” Cas sits up, “Emma is our main focus. She needs to know she’s loved and that she’s safe. We can’t let anything jeopardize that.”

The weight of ‘anything’ weighs heavily in the space between them.

“Right,” Dean clears his throat and holds up his hand. “Co-parents for life.”

Cas snorts and high-fives him.

“Co-parents for life.”

They drive the rest of the way to Cas’ office in relative silence.  Cas flips through every radio station imaginable, not even finding one to settle on before Dean rolls to a stop outside his building.

Cas looks over at him then and offers him a smile. “Have a good day, Dean.”

“You too, man,” Dean smiles back.

He finds himself staring at Cas’ lips for a split second. Then they lock eyes, and Dean clears his throat, turning away first.

“Gotta grab some breakfast before work,” he says.

“Yeah, I’d better… yeah,” Cas nods and gets out of the car. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you tonight,” Dean clears his throat.

And every night of his life for the next eighteen years.


End file.
